The Spark
by Lena Lawlipop
Summary: It had been easy, almost instinctive, to offer his ability in exchange for a life together. It had been the heat of the moment, the imminent threat of 'you're going to lose her'. It had been scarily easy. Or, being ageless has less perks than it might seem to at first sight, and Arkarian is just human, with fears and ghosts of his own.


I'm so tired of this oneshot, I've been writing it for what feels like ages oh my god :'D These two lovebirds just can't shut up apparently! Their conversation is a bit all over the place, but I think it hits most of what they would talk about on the first few times they see each other after the Underworld extravaganza.

I've edited it but if you see something off, it's probably because I'm too close to the story and I've read it like a 10000000 times just this week. Sobs. This one has to be finished, I want to write other ideas for these beautiful characters.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Special thanks to notyourdreamwife (ao3), who has been chatting with me about the characters and making me really excited about writing them, even if I was already on it, motivation is always welcome! 3

Music that I think fits this oneshot/that I used to write it. Don't focus too much on the lyrics, they're cute but mostly I used them for mood setting:

\- Say you won't let go - James Arthur

\- Beautiful in white - Shane Filan (ostensibly the cutest song about marriage I've ever heard? like wtf it got me blushing when I first heard it) (Not that this fic is about marriage but you know, shipping, and all that :'D)

* * *

I'm prepared for awkward, and I'm prepared for overly enthusiastic, and I'm even prepared for downright hesitation. I'm not quite prepared for overwhelming relief, not from her, certainly not from _myself_.

She's here, and I'm instantly nervous. I hadn't known she would come, but I'd had an idea, Ethan had mentioned it. Well. In any case. She's here now.

I open the door for her and feel rather than hear her relieved thoughts. Her mind is almost completely shielded, but there's a hint of nerves behind what little whispers I get. Mostly my own name. One track mind, huh?

My chambers are, in a sense, a representation of myself to the Guard. I'm aware of what people see in me — a guide, a friendly voice, a manifestation of what the whole Guard is. In such a big organization, where no one is allowed to reveal their identity to each other, _I_ am the common nexus, and most Named I know appreciate me as such. I don't mind. Even Ethan, someone I've practically _raised,_ sometimes thinks of me that way. It's humbling, really. Not the Tribunal, not the Immortal, but _I,_ represent a feeling of belonging such as the Guard itself.

It's not quite the same for her, however. I had already noticed in the past few months before the entire Underworld ordeal, but she's interested, she's tried to get to know me differently, and honestly, it's... wow. It's different, that's for sure.

"Arkarian," she calls my name then, and I look up to see her at the door frame. "Oh, thank God," she continues, her shoulders, her entire frame, sagging with relief. I frown, confused, but she's already walking towards me, arms extended and pulling me into a hug. I can feel her powers run through me, warm, soft.

Considering I've already heard from quite a few other Guard members, and their collective reactions had been relief at seeing me alive, I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of this before. Quite silly of me, really.

I myself am relieved, I find. She's here. She came to see me, and she certainly doesn't seem scared to ask for a hug that we both clearly need. I rest my chin atop her head, causing her to squeak a little in protest. I can't help but chuckle as I wrap my arms around her as well, not interrupting her quiet exploration of my health. She doesn't take long, and then I finally get one of the reactions I _had_ been expecting. She's awkward, though she doesn't pull away.

"Is this okay?" she asks quietly, tapping with her fingers on my back to indicate the hug.

"More than," I answer, finding myself unable to raise my voice either.

"Tell me I'm not the only one who feels like it's odd," she goes on to say, and I'm _so_ in love.

"Oh, definitely, don't worry," I assure her, and we both chuckle at the same time.

"Good to know I'm not alone."

What am I supposed to say? _'No, and not for eternity because, surprise, we're soulmates' _? Come on.

Flashes of conversations with other Guard members pass through my mind, but I push them all away. They had all had different ideas of what my relationship with Isabel would be, or what we would look for in each other. I'm not sure if any of them was right, but I'm not naïve enough not to know what I want, nor insensitive enough not to extend the same courtesy to her.

"Is your mom feeling better about the whole ordeal? Ethan mentioned she was quite cross with you and Matt," I ask, and I can feel her laughter against my chest.

"You bet she was," she confirms. "It's a little better now, though. As soon as I return home early enough, she will never know I wasn't at the library."

"I see," I hum, but she isn't finished.

"You haven't talked to Matt, by any chance, have you?"

"No, not really," I frown, wondering if I should be worried. "Is he okay? I imagine you and Ethan would have noticed if he..."

"No, he hasn't manifested any powers, and no, he isn't sick or anything after that... place," she places a soothing hand on my forearm, and we pull apart slightly to look at each other. She smiles a little timidly, her cheeks reddening. "He's fine, don't make that face. He's being his usual overbearing self, that's all. Wanted to make sure he's not giving you shit about whatever he's got in his brain about... Well, about us," she shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. It doesn't work, because the concept itself still manages to send a small wave of shock through my body every single time. I smile.

"Well, no, he hasn't been here. Not that I'm exactly surprised," I find myself adding, and she laughs.

"Of course he hasn't. Should have known."

"What is he worried about?"

"Like he would tell me," Isabel shrugs. "I mean, all of the usual things, I imagine. I'm his little baby sister, I'm too young or whatever, and he doesn't like you for some unfathomable reason. Don't call me biased," she adds, amused, before I can interrupt. "I don't know a single Named that doesn't get along with you, not even Ethan's father. It's just Matt, and no one knows what his deal is."

"I'm bound to find people who I don't get along with, too, you know," I tease, and she shakes her head.

"That's the thing... you haven't done anything to him. He's just..." she shrugs. "I don't understand it. Maybe I _am_ too biased to understand it."

"Hmm, maybe," I agree, but I'm distracted, really.

I don't much care if Matt is uncomfortable around me. Just as I'm a reminder of a common cause for many people, Matt didn't have an easy introduction to the Guard. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the biggest problem for him.

In any case, I think as I raise a hand to run my fingers through Isabel's hair, this is not the best time to discuss Matt. I have everything I've ever wanted right in my arms, and I feel entitled to be perfectly speechless when Isabel chooses to lean into my hand, pressing a chaste kiss against my palm before letting me continue caressing her hair.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly a moment later, knowing that she doesn't know what to say, and that I probably should at least ask, at least once. She seems surprised.

"I— are _you_ okay? You nearly died," she throws back at me. I arch an eyebrow.

"I hear from Ethan you three didn't have it any easier, plus you had to babysit Matt," I joke, and Isabel snorts. She pulls away slightly to shake her head and I move aside to walk with her and lead the way towards one of the chambers, somewhere more comfortable to talk than the main octagonal room.

"God, he's so annoying," she's saying, and I'm not surprised in the least by this reaction.

"Ethan, or your brother?" I ask, just to tease her a little.

"Both. But I meant Matt. He shouldn't have come with us..."

"I wish I could agree, but he turned up something important at the end, there," I sigh. "But nevermind Matt. Do you... would you like to talk about that?"

"If by 'that' you mean the underworld? Uh, no," she deadpans. "No, that was awful, no need to go through that twice."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I agree. "Still, if you find something troubling you, at least talk it through with Ethan, or maybe Jimmy if you're more comfortable..."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm comfortable talking to you," she shoves my arm playfully, and I smile.

"If you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure. It's just that it's been a rough time down there, frankly horrifying, and I just don't want to think about it too much just now. Maybe give it some more time," she offers, and I nod.

"You sound like you're doing a lot better than Ethan, at the very least," I comment, off-hand, because I still don't believe for a second that she's as fine as she seems. As if on cue, her face falls a little. She hides behind her hair for a moment, as we enter what looks like a living room.

"We're all taking some time to process it, I think," she settles for, sitting down next to me in a sofa. "Lots of nightmares, but I guess that's to be expected. We're... well, we're a bit tired lately, but it's better when..." she gestures towards me vaguely. "It's better when I'm here with you."

"Ethan said something similar."

"I bet he did. He was very distraught right after coming back home," she tucks her hair behind her ears. "I think it became real for him then, being back home."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I had to face it very early on, considering I was having visions from a dead girl, and then I had to heal you," she shudders, and I feel the impulse to take her hand. After a second of hesitation, I remind myself that now I _can,_ so I do, and she squeezes my fingers a little. "It was... I thought... It was definitely the hardest challenge for me," she whispers, and I pull her closer.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be silly, it wasn't your fault," she sighs. "But I think for Ethan it was like a mission, I think he tried to make sure _I _was okay, and then when we came back..."

"He crashed," I finish. She nods.

"He came to see you, didn't he? A few days ago?"

"He did."

"He mentioned it," she nods again. "It was good for him, I think. He's been much better since then. Laughing a lot more, less nightmares too, or so he says."

"I'm glad..."

"Me too. He definitely brings the mood down if he's down."

"Right."

"Jimmy understood, but my mom has definitely had a tough time as well," she continues, lacing our fingers together and we both momentarily lose track of what we're discussing. Then she speaks again. "So, yeah, it's been impossible to leave the house until now. Between my mom and Matt..."

"He doesn't like that you're here, does he?"

"Nope," she sighs. "I don't see why he has to make things difficult on everybody."

"Let's take things as they come," I suggest, and she chuckles.

"Sure. Can I ask you something, then?" she sounds hesitant, and I mentally prepare for something personal.

"Of course."

"When..." she shakes her head a little, gathering her courage, but her next words shock me with their simplicity. "When is your birthday?"

"What the...?"

Isabel bursts out laughing, probably at my face, and I chuckle along, definitely taken by surprise.

"I was sent to that mission, you know? To your literal birth date, and we were so caught up in fighting the Order that neither Ethan nor I found out what day it actually was. Ethan says you've never told him. We've figured it's sometime in May, considering the weather and clothing we wore."

"May 31st," I murmur, amused to the extreme. "Why?"

"Curious," she laughs again. "Can I ask you something else?"

"1385," I answer, dryly, and she cackles.

"Not that, but good to know."

"Go on, then."

"Why haven't you ever told Ethan?"

The question takes me by surprise again. I arch an eyebrow, but she simply waits, and I decide to just be honest. It's something new, and electrifying, but I'm left to decide whether that's a good feeling or not. It's early to tell.

"I'm trained not to get attached to people. I didn't want to let him celebrate my birthday. Never worked, but at some point he decided he'd rather guess it, so I just didn't tell him."

I'm not sure what to expect, but it's certainly not a nod. She isn't looking at me.

"I'm sorry," I say, more out of habit than anything.

"Wha— why are you apologizing?" she smiles, a little sadly. "I figured it would be something like that already."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Didn't want to assume," she shrugs. "You could have just... not remembered your birthday or something."

"I didn't know it, at first. Lorian was the one who told me when my birthday was, when I joined the Guard," I say, and she nods in silence for a moment. Then she grins.

"Were you surprised when he told you...?"

"He knows everything, I think, so no."

"No! When he told you he was your father!" she finishes, amused.

"Ah," I laugh. "No, not at all."

"You knew?"

"No, but..." I shrug. "Lorian doesn't get close to people very often. The Tribunal are the closest thing he has to friends, you know, and you've seen how they talk to each other. It was always odd that he would personally train me for so long, and also allow me to be so close to him all the time. I always thought he had a soft spot for me, for some reason."

"Yeah, and what a reason," she adds.

"Yeah..."

"Did you know he was going to give me the same ability as yours?" she asks, cheeks going red, and I feel my own face heat up as well.

"No," I admit. "I had asked him to take mine away, I never thought... I didn't dare hope," I murmur. "I went to see him to ask him to spare your life, and to let me live a short, normal life by your side. I didn't think he would entertain either thought, but I guess if he was going to do _one_ thing for me, it would have to be one of those. I couldn't decide for you, either, so, no. I didn't think he would do that."

"You're crazy, did you know that?" Isabel asks then, and I raise my eyes to look at her, amused. She's smiling as well. "Completely off your rocker. Mad."

"Yeah, about you," I counter, and she bursts out laughing, cheeks now fully red. She falls forward, closer, and our lips meet as if it was the most natural thing on Earth.

Perhaps it is.

She's still laughing as we kiss, and I smile into her lips, cradling her face in my hands. This is the first time we kiss without being in a hurry, I realize immediately, and feel myself relax into our embrace. Isabel's lips taste like cherry chapstick, but the flavor fades soon as we keep kissing, and we're both breathless by the time we pull apart, just enough to keep our foreheads touching. She's shivering, and I can't tell if it's because of nerves, or something else.

"Me too," she whispers after a moment, throwing me off for a second.

"Hm?"

"Mad about you," she reminds me, mischief in her eyes, and I laugh, wondering if I'm blushing. I feel like I might be, but then again, I'm a little too distracted to be sure.

"Some would say that's just being mad."

"Yeah, well, what do they know anyway," she replies, flippantly, making me laugh more.

There's a short silence, and she closes her eyes. I pull her closer into an embrace, and she tucks her head against my neck. I shiver, but she doesn't point it out. Her thoughts aren't shielded anymore, but her mind is quiet. Still, I can tell she's trying to piece something together, and I let her reorganize her thoughts in silence. I myself need to sort myself out, at the very least catch my breath and let my heartbeat slow down for a moment.

"Is this okay?" she asks eventually, and I can't help but smile.

"Yes," I answer, simply. There are no catches, I tell myself. There really aren't anymore. "Is this okay with you too?"

"Really, Arkarian? You can read my mind," she teases. I can read that she knows on some level that thoughts aren't always a reflection of people's real wishes, and I don't feel the need to remind her of it. I simply smile.

"You'll find that I'm rather insistent on people telling me things themselves, rather than reading their thoughts. It becomes easy to forget that some people don't have the luxury of choosing what they're showing me in their minds, like you or other Named do, so I prefer to hear it from them, vocally."

"Silly," she says then, affectionately. "I knew that already about you."

"You did," I murmur, and while it's not exactly a question, she seems to hear it as one. Maybe I meant it as one. I'm honestly too distracted to be sure.

"You do that to Ethan a lot. You did it to me back when I couldn't shield my thoughts. You're doing it now," she adds, and I can feel my skin raising into goosebumps as I realize I can feel her smile against my neck. I exhale, torn between amusement and something that settles in my stomach and that I can't quite name.

"Am I?"

"One has to assume," she chuckles, and pulls away to look at me. "What are _you_ thinking about, anyway?"

"Nothing," I answer honestly. "Just enjoying this," I tighten my hold on her waist briefly.

Her thoughts seem confused, but she doesn't ask anything, just nods before settling back on my shoulder.

"What will it feel like, when I become eighteen?" she asks quietly after a moment, and I finally place the hint of discomfort in her thoughts. It's fear. My heart aches for her, and I sigh, but she immediately seems to realize this. "I don't regret it!" she pulls away to look at me in the eyes, and she seems anxious. "I really don't," she insists. I smile, a little sadly.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "That you had to make that choice for me, that is. I asked the Immortal to take my ability away, you know I did. I wouldn't have asked you to do this. You have a family, and friends, and..."

"I really, really don't regret it, Arkarian."

I consider my words carefully. I could apologize again, or I could reassure her that there's a reason behind her feelings, behind why she feels so strongly about her choice. I do neither. Apologizing again would make her mad, and telling her about our soul bond now would belittle her own choice, her own struggle. I thread my fingers into her hair, pushing it behind her ears.

"It won't feel like anything. It's potentially the most anticlimactic ability to ever have," I assure her, trying to make her laugh, but it doesn't quite work.

"Really?"

"Really. You will become eighteen, and then... you will stay that way." I watch her as I say this, and she nods. Her eyes are slightly wet, and I can tell she's still thinking about it.

"I am going to miss them," she says, eventually, her voice strangled. I can tell how much it takes for her to voice this out loud, to me in particular, and I appreciate it. I let her speak, and she takes a shuddering breath, looking aside when more tears come to her eyes. "My mom, my brother... Ethan..." She sniffles, and I wish I could wipe her tears, but she's not looking at me. I realize she's been thinking about it this past week, on her own, and I wish more than ever that I could have been with her through it. "How do you...?"

"I miss people too, Isabel," I tell her, and her shoulders shudder once with a sob that she tries her hardest to stop. I rub her back softly. "I always miss people. Some more than others, depending on how much I got to know them. I remember them, some more than others. It doesn't exactly get easier, but I don't think it gets worse than the first few, especially if they're family."

"I'm sorry," she says through another sob, almost interrupting me, her voice a little panicked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You can cry in front of me," I murmur, but she shakes her head.

"It's not that. I know _that,_" she says, and while it's reassuring, it makes me smile a little bitterly.

"You can cry about your family, Isabel, even if I don't have one. I never did, not really, but that doesn't mean I'll be mad at you for it. I didn't have parents, or siblings, but I've loved people before. It's hard to let them go, and I won't lie to you, it will hurt."

She doesn't answer, but I can tell she feels better knowing I don't think less of her for this. As if I ever would, I tell myself, but I know fears like this aren't rational, and I don't take it personally. I take a deep breath.

"I'm going to miss them too. Shaun, Jimmy... probably... well, perhaps especially Ethan. I've known him since he was but a toddler," I say, feeling a knot in my throat.

Isabel wraps her arms around me again, and the thought still hurts, but just a tiny bit less. She's thinking about Ethan and me, and I can tell she simply doesn't have any words for her thoughts, for her feelings. I don't either, so I hold her closer.

"Does it really never get easier?" she asks quietly after a while.

"Only a tiny bit," I sigh. "It's... better, in the sense that you start learning how to deal with the pain, how to properly honor the person's memory. You still mourn friends, but you no longer dwell on their deaths as much as you do with the first few," I say, and she nods softly.

"I guess that's about what you'd expect," she murmurs, but I appreciate that, as she does, she curls ever closer to me instead of away from me.

Her thoughts dance to their own beat, a personal, particular flow that I find is different for everyone. I don't interrupt, and I try my best not to read them. Sometimes they're surprising to her, jarring against the tame flow of the rest, and she dwells on them for a moment before letting them go. Eventually, I can tell she's choosing to focus on something else, but as I'm not actively reading, it takes me a while to realize she's thinking of me.

I try not to react, but I wish she'd ask out loud. The uncertainty threatens to push me to read her thoughts, and I try to find something else to talk about, something that will distract me. If she has a question, I trust her to ask me upfront. It's not like she hasn't before, whether we were together or not yet.

The thought makes me shiver, and _this_ I know she can tell, but she still doesn't speak.

"Why me?" she asks me after a few seconds, before I can find a safe topic to bring up. It startles me, but it's not a question I hadn't expected. I just hadn't expected it... now. This early on. She pulls away to look at me, decided, but somewhat insecure. I consider my words.

"Do you remember when we first met?" I start, and she blushes scarlet red. Her thoughts shield themselves, almost instinctively, and for the first time, I allow myself to laugh outwardly at this reaction. I can tell it surprises her, and her mental shield relaxes again. "Yes, that too, but no, I didn't mean that."

_'I didn't know he could laugh like that,'_ she thinks, but what she says out loud is, "I'm glad I'm finally in the category of people you feel comfortable laughing at."

"How oddly specific," I murmur, amused. "You're in a very much smaller category of people that includes you and you alone, but I normally don't laugh at the newbies, you know, as a general rule. You didn't know back then, and it wouldn't have been fair." Isabel blushes even more at my words, and I find a secret kind of pleasure in her reaction.

"What _did_ you mean, then?" she pushes the conversation along, and I chuckle under my breath again, tilting my head to the side.

"Come on, Isabel, you're more perceptive than that."

She considers it, and this time I take a chance to read her thoughts more closely. The memory is tinted with a feeling of the unknown, surprise and wonder coloring everything surrounding it, me included. That spark, however, is there whether she realized it or not. Judging by the way she doesn't quite meet my eyes, she did.

"There," I whisper, when her thoughts take a coherent form in her mind, rather than a diffuse feeling. She takes a sharp breath, eyes wide. It might be the first time I'm so liberal with my ability with her, but something tells me her surprise is more towards the conversation itself. "I could ask you the very same question, couldn't I? It all boils down to that spark."

"But that's... that's crazy," she whispers, voice shaking. "I'm sixteen, not _dumb_. How many other people you must have met that you clicked with before me...!"

"Ah, there's where you're wrong," I interrupt her, and she looks at me this time, almost anxiously. "I won't patronize you and tell you that I've never been in love. You and I both know I'm too old for that," she merely arches an eyebrow, almost teasingly. It would be a lot funnier if she wasn't nearly shaking in my arms. "Still, you were different. I didn't quite realize why, or how, at first. It became clearer afterwards, specifically after your first mission." I watch closely as I speak, as understanding washes over her.

"I died, didn't I? Ethan kept telling me I didn't, that he got me out of there fast enough, but..."

"You died," I confirm, and relief settles in her thoughts, interestingly enough.

"I knew I hadn't dreamed it! You came to find me, didn't you?" she breathes, and I frown.

"You remember that?"

"Vaguely. Ethan insists I'm making it up..."

"Yeah, that's..." I pull one of my hands away from her waist to run it through my hair, a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry. Had I known you remembered... Well, something would have been done about it."

"Something?" she presses, suddenly wary, and I shrug.

"What do you remember exactly?" I ask her instead. She pulls away to cross her arms around herself, distractedly playing with the hems of her sleeves.

"I died. I... I remember the knife, and the pain, and the darkness. I remember walking somewhere dark, somewhere... there was only one light, so I remember walking towards it, and then I remember hearing you call my name, and turning around to see you," she recites, as if she's told this story many times. I wonder why Ethan has never told me this, but this isn't the time for that. "But then I woke up, and you said Ethan had saved me! It was so confusing. And then you just, sent me home!" she pouts, which is amusing, considering the amount of fear present in the rest of her tale. "Very rude, Arkarian."

"I apologize," I murmur, wishing she would come back into my arms, but unsure as to whether she wants to, right now. "At the time you didn't remember everything exactly, and I wanted to keep you in the dark about it for a reason. Ethan agreed to it as well."

"What reason?"

"When someone dies in the past, their soul becomes trapped, and cannot go to what humanity knows as Heaven," I explain, and she blinks, taken by surprise.

"But Marduke... Wait, do souls get trapped in the Underworld?" she asks, but I shake my head to dispel her already racing thoughts.

"No. They get trapped in what is called the Middle Realm. When Ethan called my name, and I brought both of you back from that mission, you were already dead, and your soul hadn't come back properly because of that."

"But now I'm not dead," she reasons, with a hint of irony. "Neither is Marduke. So how...?"

"Ethan wanted to bring you back," I start, a little uncomfortable with how early on she's picked up on this all. But maybe it will be a good thing to put all the cards on the table, as they say, so I continue. "So I transported him to the Middle Realm. But there was a problem..." I hesitate, and she seems to notice, because she takes my hand to squeeze my fingers, and I take a breath, steadying myself. "The only person who can call a soul back from the Middle Realm is... well, that soul's soulmate."

"So Ethan...?" her eyes widen with horror, and I rush to shake my head again. At this point, I can only try and hope that she won't think this is too much. Too much more than she signed up for, at any rate. Too intense, too attached, too definite.

"No. Ethan tried, and tried, but he couldn't, and in a fit of panic I transported myself there, with the vain hope that _I_ would be able to do it. So, yeah, I'm sorry to inform you that you're stuck with me."

She takes on the information, and I can tell it takes her a second to piece together the full meaning of what I'm saying. Then she punches my arm. Hard. I flinch.

"You're an idiot," she says, affectionately. "You scared the shit out of me, for a moment I thought Ethan was my soulmate! Seriously, never do that ever again," she says, relieved for some reason I don't quite understand. I take the feeling for what it is, a confirmation that she _is_ over her crush on Ethan. I arch an eyebrow, and she frowns. "What?"

"What?" I ask, too, confused, and she snorts.

"What do you mean what? You _are _an idiot, both for scaring me like that, and for implying that being your soulmate is somehow a terrible fate," she mocks me, and I finally feel like I can breathe properly.

"Oh," is all I can think of saying, very eloquently for what my brain seems to be doing. Isabel laughs, shaking her head with a little smile that absolutely undoes me.

"_Oh_, indeed," she sighs. "You should see your face, Arkarian."

"Rude," I murmur, a little petulantly, but she manages to find it funny. "I'm having a nervous crisis here, okay? There's not a guide to telling people they're your soulmate without freaking them out," I continue, but she simply laughs a little more, breathless and then pulls me closer to kiss me.

I probably stop functioning properly. I wouldn't know.

She kisses me for a long time, and I eventually feel the anxiety leaving my body, slowly, but easily. I manage to see the irony of her having to keep _me_ grounded about this.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" she whispers when we pull apart some minutes later. I've slid back on the sofa a little, and she's leaning on me without a care in the world. I wonder if she can tell how quickly my heart is beating.

"A bit too much to throw on someone you're just friends with?" I offer, and she snorts.

"You can _read _my_ mind!_" she cries, and that makes me laugh.

"Well, not as of late. And anyway, that's never a good indicator. You'd be surprised how many people our minds can think they're attractive without actually having feelings for them."

"How on Earth have you fooled Ethan into thinking you know everything?" she pretends to marvel at, and I roll my eyes.

"Well, if you really want to get serious about it, I never wanted you to have to give up your family to be in the lonely position of never aging," I add, quietly, and her eyes soften.

"Yeah, that makes more sense. Still, it won't be that bad if you're with me," she murmurs, cheeks going red at her own words, but not taking them back. I can't help myself when I kiss her again.

"There was never a doubt in my mind that I would give up my ability," I tell her. "It was the first thing I thought of, the moment I knew you were my soulmate. But at the time you still had a crush on Ethan, and I really wasn't in any position to change that, so..."

"You're wrong," she mutters, interrupting me, and I shrug.

"I didn't know. And I also can't really live normally, not even if I abandoned my ability, considering the Order would find me immediately if I left my chambers. I have nothing to offer. Ethan loves you like a sister, but even if he and you didn't end up together... or even if you had...!" I sigh, thoughts and moments where jealousy got the better of me going through my head. Things I never said, things I wish I had never thought. Things neither of them are responsible for, and yet made my blood boil in my veins. "I would have been happy for you, even if it would have destroyed me inside, you know. If you could have had a normal, happy life... that would have been enough."

"I wouldn't have been happy," she says, and I shake my head.

"Having a soulmate doesn't stop you from loving other people, Isabel. Some people never even get to meet theirs, let alone know they are _the_ one, not for certain. Knowing only made it harder, and telling you would have put that pressure on you for no reason."

"What made you change your mind, then?" she retorts, and I sigh, looking away.

"Fear, cowardice, loneliness... I don't know. I had almost died, and then I didn't think about it and I kissed you... and I just... couldn't help it anymore. Lorian said to my face, knowing what you mean to me, that he planned to kill you. Of course I wasn't thinking clearly about it," I don't dare look at her when I say this, but her hands hold mine softly, gently. I swallow the lump threatening to form in my throat. "In a sense, I didn't change my mind. I still think I wish you could live an easy, normal life. But that choice wasn't mine anymore, I just hope you know I would have respected it, no matter what you had chosen."

"Of course I know," she says immediately, and then squeezes my fingers between hers. "But I guess I'll just have to keep reminding you of my choice for the foreseeable future, however long that is," she settles, after a second, and only then do I find myself able to look her in the eye. She seems proud of having found the words she needed, and I can't help but smile.

"I love you," I tell her, enunciating carefully, and watching as her cheeks turn red.

"I feel like it doesn't have the same weight to it when _I_ say it, but... I love you too," she murmurs.

"It means the _world_ to me," I reassure her.

She kisses me again.

It takes us a while to break apart after that, and the only reason I really notice the time at all, is because she brings it up. She grimaces as she does, pointedly looking at her phone to confirm it, with a sigh.

"No need to ruffle any feathers at home, now that we're both back safe and sound," I remind her, and she huffs.

"What you mean is 'no need to make Matt angry', so let me remind you that he won't know," it makes me smile, a little bitterly, to know that her brother really doesn't like the idea of his sister dating me, but I have to shake my head.

"No, I really do mean it," and I hate to bring the mood down, but I need her to understand this one point. "You should spend time with your family, Isabel. They've missed you, and you _will _miss them, eventually, too."

My words remind her of the conversation we've just had, and she nods, realization downing on her. It's sobering, but she doesn't move away from me just yet, and that's enough to soothe the tinge of reality threatening to hit us once more. Eventually, she sighs, and shakes herself. She hugs me closer instead of pulling away, but this time she's saying goodbye.

"I'll try to come back soon," she promises, laying her head on my shoulder. I'm fairly sure my hair must be tickling her face, but she doesn't move.

"It's alright, Isabel. I'll be here."

"I would expect a lot of visits for a while, though, not just from me," she advises, and I nod.

"It's been busy around here, it almost feels like everyone remembered my existence all of a sudden after I nearly died," the idea startles her, and I bite my tongue. A bit much, perhaps. "I don't mean to sound bitter about it."

"I would be bitter, if I were you," she says, understandingly, but I chuckle.

"No, I'm not, really. I just appreciate the irony of it. I'm not bitter, I make myself as emotionally unavailable as possible to most people. It's just that you and Ethan don't really get to see that too much, so I understand why you'd say that."

"I was talking about Ethan, to be fair," she shrugs a little. "We've all missed you, but he has it easier to come over than me, what with Shaun covering for him and all."

"He has it easier, _and_ he has more practice," memories of the many times Ethan has come over when he definitely _shouldn't _have been here make me smile. "It's very hard to be mad at him for disobeying his parents, so I'm just glad to know that Shaun is siding with him for once."

"He must have had a hard time adjusting now that his dad is in with the secret," she muses. "We have Jimmy, but... Well, he's not around all the time, and he's not..."

"He's not your dad," I complete, and she shrugs. "I imagine it's complicated."

"I remember very little of my real dad, it's mostly bad though," she pulls apart, finally, with a resigned sigh, but keeps our hands linked. "Matt remembers more, and in general, we've both tried to be there for each other without dad. I love Jimmy, but it's not... he's not my dad. He makes mom happy, though, so... I can't complain. He takes care of us however he can, but Matt is... Matt," she finishes, with a grimace. "Matt is a pain in the ass to everyone in the family, and I... I've always been very independent, and I think Jimmy doesn't know what to do about me. I don't think he wants to play favorites, despite me being painfully obviously the less problematic sibling," she says, with a hint of mischief in her eyes. I laugh.

"I'm sure it's difficult for him too, of course. And your mother. It's never easy to join a family like this."

"Hmm," she agrees, pressing her lips together to hide her smile.

"I'm sure we could keep talking forever," I tell her, however, before she can continue the conversation, and she laughs. "But I'm sure you're meant to be going home, not complaining about your problematic sibling."

"I can do whatever I want," she throws back, faking rebelliousness. At the same time, her fingers slip from mine, and she stands up, stretching. I follow her example.

"By all means," I play along. "But I don't relish the thought of explaining to Matt that you decided to stay here too long and made your mother anxious again, right after the ordeal from last week."

"Yeeeeahh..."

We walk back towards the entrance, this time in silence, but it's comfortable, relaxed. She takes my hand while we walk again, and she blushes when I glance at her, but also throws me a little grin, and everything clicks into place. I hold her for a moment before opening the entrance for her, she tiptoes to kiss me, and we both take our time to let our lips slide away from each other, reluctantly pulling away at the end.

"You will let me know if...?" I start, unsure of how I want to end that question. 'If the nightmares are too much?', 'If you have questions about whatever it is we're getting ourselves into?', 'If you're having second thoughts?' Nothing seems right, and yet she seems to know exactly what I'm talking about. She tilts her head to the side, and smiles.

"I will," she promises, and I'm not sure what _she_ means. "If anything happens, if anything changes, if anything… anything" she goes on to say. "I'll tell you."

"Okay," I answer, somewhat reassured.

"Although, again," she laughs, as if a thought has just occurred to her. "You can _read_ my _mind_, Arkarian. Awful lot of trouble if I have to tell you absolutely everything."

Her thoughts aren't shielded, but I don't take the bait. I simply laugh along and shake my head. There's a familiar feeling lingering in them, but I can't pick up anything else without actively reading, and she turns around to start the trek down the mountain before I can ask what she means by any of this.

She doesn't say goodbye, not in words. It's in the way she looks at me for a last time before taking a turn, however, in the way she walks slowly, reluctantly. I don't say it either, and I understand why. It's a bit much to ask of either of us right now, that we say goodbye. Not when a part of our soul is walking away after finally being together. Not when we've finally found each other.

It takes me a few hours to place the feeling I had sensed from her thoughts, and while it's so familiar I should have realized immediately, it still leaves me flustered for just as long.

It was love.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D

If you did, please consider leaving favs or a comment, they're greatly appreciated! If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can PM me, find me at my tumblr, kyokotsukuyomi, or try the comments section down below. Don't be shy!

Love,

~Lena


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